Pentagram Equations
by The Blearing Phoenix
Summary: Chapter Five Summary: Their camp had been ambushed, Penelo could still see the faint blood spots speckled upon their handkerchiefs – their only articles of clothing that had been recovered. INDEFINITE HIATUS
1. Chapter I: The Blue Divide

**Pentagram Equations**

**- **

**TerrisMoon**

_**Disclaimer – **I do not own the characters featured in this fic, they are the property of SQUARE-ENIX. _

_**Summary –** (In-Game) Friendship can be found in the unlikeliest of people during the oddest of circumstances. (Brief Balthier x Ashe and Implied Basch x Penelo)_

_**Chapter Summary --** Ashe and Penelo brood over Basch and Balthier. The party have a run-in with an unlikely enemy.   
_

_**Author's Notes -- **Warning: The time period for this fic tends to jump between previous memories experienced by Basch or Penelo so the events of each chapter may have no connection to one another sometimes – in other words they could be there to explain the main characters' motives for doing what they do. The same is to be said for Balthier x Ashe, although there interactions will be solely introduced in the second chapter._

_Enjoy,_

_x TerrisMoon_

Part I. The Blue Divide Penelo's Turn

**Her eyes were like stars to him, flashing like two constellations about to implode and force out its blinding lights upon the planet. Her lips were like two quivering blushing petals, and when she spoke her voice was like sonorous bells and bittersweet coffee. Her hair, he remembered touching the loose strands, was like the color of smoldering ash smeared with dirt. But the color itself had become lighter as the days stretched on and passed away into nothingness. **

**He noted that the princess still wore that tight-lipped face, all composed of livid grey eyes and a steely resolve pressed into the way she held her head up high. **

**Today, he noted, as he slung his strapped gun across his shoulder, was a day full of Luck for him. Today was a day full of adventure and discovery and he was inhaling the perils and the risks. He loved this; he _breathed _and _lived _for it. Yes, Balthier Bunansa lived to pilfer from the rich, to stick his hands into slimy Flans and pull out a glittering coin to fill his pockets with. He _lived _to pilot the **Strahl**, to press his toes unto the metal pedals and to lean forward, bracing himself and inhaling the exhaust from the open windows.**

**Yet, today, was also a day where he feared he'd trotted too far. He held his gun, all plated with gleaming gold, in his ringed fingers. Then he stopped tinkering with its various switches and knobs. Although he _did _enjoy playing with guns almost as much as he enjoyed flying through the firmaments and teasing his fellow noble consort. For today, he'd led the party through a twisting corridor, teeming with green skinned behemoths that groaned and shrieked like bloodthirsty fiends. And, now they were standing before _another _rusty hinged door that was too heavy for Balthier to push. **

**Basch had stepped up, politely asking Balthier to move aside. The sky pirate was more than glad to avoid getting his cuffs sullied again, so instead he sat near a boulder that was rooted deep into the cave floor. He glanced at Fran and the two of them held some wordless, voiceless communication that had to do with strategic battle plans and piloting airships. Then when they were done nodding and smirking at one another in a knowing sort of way, as if they'd practically been borne from the same womb, Balthier gaited through the open doorway. **

**Basch traipsed next to Penelo, his Icebrand sword turned his fingers pallid and his nails blue but he never seemed to heed it. Penelo pivoted and gyrated her way through Strikers, weaving patterned cuts and slivers through their tough green skin. Her eyelids were shielding her mysterious round eyes from the world as she danced across the circular room that was dimly lit by torches. And when she'd wandered too far near a group of ugly flying creatures known as Imps that were indeed impish in nature, Basch would come with a battle cry tearing at his throat and he'd literally dive into the fray. **

**Vaan was there, his poise all lax, with drooping shoulders and nimble fingers just ready to pluck from loose purses. He was like a clever cat all nimble on his toes, ready to pounce and ready to release a Parallel Arrow from his Burning Bow that had a graceful curvature to it. The blonde haired boy smirked as coins tinkled in his lumpy bag that was tied unto his dark sash. His eyes sparkled with boyish mischief and he lunged in again and again, relishing in the sounds of tinkling coins and bottled Hi-Potions. **

**Fran had strayed far from the door, her curved backside pressed against the rocky cave wall. Her fingers gripped her hilted Sledgehammer as she brought her blunted weapon down upon a troublesome Imp that had wandered into the room the group had just trekked through. She ran toward Penelo, her boots' pointed heels clicking on the ground noisily, as she tossed a vial of Hi-Potion upon the weary girl that was dropping to her raw skinned knees. **

**The usually upbeat girl muttered something to Basch as she let green light warm her fingertips and then the light grew and enveloped everyone within her range in a warming healing light. Twisted gnarled ligaments stitched themselves back together, fractured bones mended and grinded against one another as they slid back into place, and cuts oozing out metallic and salty blood closed up with newly formed skin. **

**The battle was endless, the monsters spawned in whooshing winds and in bursts of ethereal lights. Balthier smirked confidently, fully trusting his Sledgehammer to work its way through a tangled mass of muscled limbs and sharp claws. Pit Fiends, which resembled their close cousins, Imps dawdled around a deep pit that Vaan and Ashe were cornered into. A wall served as their only means of support against the hole that stretched out near their boot clad feet. **

**"Penelo, we need you to cast some Cura spells, do it quickly!" Vaan exclaimed breathlessly. He no longer wore that sly grin on his face. He'd already abandoned the purse-stealing ruse that he'd so cleverly used to avoid hand-to-hand combat. Now, Vaan was using his lithe body as a human shield for Ashe who was trying to push her way out for she wanted to _fight _and he wasn't letting her. **

**"Lady Ashe, please do not panic. Just stay there, Penelo don't bother Curing let Fran do it as she has more strength than you do right now. I'd advise you to stay near Balthier; I'll go and take care of the fiends." With those instructions left hanging in the air, the group broke up into groups of three. The sounds of boots scraping against the floor, and the din of shrieks and variously pitched battle cries, ranging from throaty gruff roars to smooth "Hmphs" resonated throughout the high cave walls that stretched upward almost endlessly. Everyone tired from the incessant scuffling and the scrambles of entangled limbs and the gurgling Death Cries that emitted from Pit Fiends and Zombie Knights alike. **

**When Basch had sustained heavy damage from the Imps' constant gnawing and the Zombie Knights' wild slashing with their small pointed swords, Penelo would step back on her heel and muster up as much magical energy as she could. A green light, infused with curative properties that must've been blessed by Ultima's amazing Holy powers, enveloped Ashe, Vaan, and Basch, healing them all instantly. When Penelo's magical power took a lot of effort to strain out throughout her weakened lithely body, then the team would resort to hurling Hi-Potions through the air, muttering thanks to the Gods as their energy was restored. **

**Between all of the battle cries and the constant switching of positions as well as the constant need for a supportive Healer (Penelo for Balthier and Basch) (Fran for Ashe and Vaan), the intermittent intervals between fights and plain treasure hunting probably only lasted for about five minutes. By the time, Penelo, Ashe, and Basch had made it to a cleverly placed Ancient Door, Vaan and the rest of the group had already fished out some well-needed Ethers and Antidotes from some glittering treasure vases. **

**Unlike the other areas, that Balthier had traveled to during his odd expeditions across Ivalice, this pitifully squalid cave did not have an ornate Urn placed amongst the crevices. Balthier was trying to focus on his gun again. He turned knobs, tugged at them, pressed switches to make them click and he altered his gun, modified it to his own liking. The group's satchel was running low on rations and there was a definite absence of heaviness when Vaan had shouldered his own backpack and walked over to Ashe. He helped her sheath the rather heavy Icebrand sword that she'd recently purchased. **

**The fact that there was no Urn in the cave made Penelo and Vaan slightly irritated. And that irritation didn't just restrict itself to the two teens; everyone was feeling it – well everyone with the exception of Balthier and Fran. Balthier decided that from herein the travelers would separate, he'd convinced Basch that if they were to do this, then they'd cover more ground in less time. Also, Vaan had added that they might be able to steal some provisions from the fiends. Balthier smirked at the boy as he walked past him, nearly bumping shoulders with the ever stern Ashe.**

**Ashe just strode past him, ever defiant and ever steeled. Her nerves almost numbed, her legs bowed, and her hands clasped as if she were constantly contemplating, which in fact she was. Her grey eyes looked less bright and they seemed starker now that the teams of two had regrouped and come upon a dimly lit area filled with the cacophony of roaring waterfalls and screeching Focalors. **

**Fran and Vaan had decided to steal away toward a particularly long waterfall since the Focalors in that area were more plentiful. While Penelo and Basch, were brandishing their weapons threateningly although the ever present smiles on their faces revealed a true feeling of familiarity borne from their constant interactions with one another. The clanging of stone hammers against Leather Shields reverberated off the cave walls and it was obvious that the two were merely having a spar to test out their strength. **

**Yet although the air around them seemed calmed and generally temperate, the mild climate of the caves didn't lessen the burdens weighing down on their hearts. Today was a day where the group was forced to traipse through the heart of the Sochen Cave Palace and because of the constant annoying reminder of the absence of an Urn, the group found themselves walking in circles rather often. Finally, an impatient soon-to-be-queen squatted down next to a desiccated corpse, wrinkling her nose at the putrid smell that wafted through her nostrils, and she let out a sigh full of obvious irritation. **

"**We've been going around in spirals. If we are to keep this up, then I fear that we shall not be able to progress any further." Basch admitted, furrowing his brows as he studied his noble consort, ready to hear her response. **

"**Our journey cannot be halted, we must continue onward to Archades." Ashe countered. Her voice resounded throughout the cave's walls as she sat down, smoothing her tight pink skirt over her bare pale legs. Balthier smirked sitting beside her, he placed his gun near his ringed fingertips and studied the detritus lining his fingernails with disgust. **

"**And if we were to keep this up, _princess_, then we'd exhaust ourselves until we'd rot in this series of endless sewers. Basch brings up a good point, we _have _been going in circles. We all need a little bit of hard-earned rest," Balthier stressed out the word, 'princess' merely to infuriate her even more. **

**Ashe seemed to be restraining herself, yet everyone could see that her eyes were flashing with vehement frustration. His bitter words only seemed like sharp barbs ready to pierce and graze her ego. It was as if he were purposely trying to mock her and Ashe, being the future queen of Dalmasca, being _royalty _no less, would not tolerate it. Yet she could not shake off the fatigue that jostled her bones and weakened her sinuous muscles. **

"**Then we shall take your suggestion and rest. Tomorrow we shall set out and try to get out of this place; we must make it to Archades as soon as possible." With those words firmly directed toward the eloquent sky pirate, Ashe pivoted on her heel and walked away. Her fists were balled up, and her lips more pursed than ever so that they resembled a grim thinned line. **

**Something was troubling her for a second later she'd disappeared behind her tent flap, obviously wanting to be left alone. Basch had started after her, his sparring lesson with Penelo was far from his mind. His concern for his princess washed over him. Penelo looked after him gnawing at her lip with her teeth until she almost split the thin layer of protective skin. What could be troubling Princess Ashe so much, what could be ailing her so, was it the death of Rasler, had she seen something that the others hadn't? Or maybe, was it simply the feeling of doubt that seemed to be nibbling at Penelo's conscience as of late, perhaps Ashe was feeling it too? Whatever it was, Penelo hoped that Basch could ease the young girl's worriment. **

**The sounds of flames softly crackling and the sight of the sparks emitting from the cracked and splintered kindling, comforted Balthier's mind. Although something was eating at the usually calm and mysterious sky pirate, he couldn't discern what it was but all he knew was that it was affecting his ability to sleep and he didn't like it. So he sat next to Fran engaging in a conversation with her about Hunts and Marks and things that only professional bounty hunters would discuss – just things that revolved around their profession. **

**Vaan was gazing over at Penelo, he carved into a Marlboro Fruit, discarding the round black seed into the fire, the orange glow illuminated his brown eyes giving it an eerie amber tint. He never failed to comfort the young girl and he certainly wouldn't fail now, he placed a cool hand on Penelo's shoulder, almost startling her out of her peaceful reverie. **

"**You were thinking," it sounded more like a question rather than an intended statement, Vaan thought. Penelo smiled amiably at him, yet the glow never reached her eyes, there was something veiled within her eyes. A deep passionate feeling coursed through her veins and poured from her heart, something completely indescribable. Her eyes traveled over to the green tent that was pitched up near the outskirts of the wide area that the group officially termed as their campsite. **

"**Yeah, I was, um, Vaan?" Penelo called to her childhood friend. She was lacing her fingers distractedly. Her eyes were trained solely upon the growing flames that lapped against the blackened kindling. Vaan turned to her, cocking his head to the side as he saw a silhouette of a medium built figure approach the small growing fire. Vaan recognized the colorful tassel that hung from the person's grey shorts. It was Basch. **

"**Hm?" Vaan took a bite out of the tart fruit and chewed thoughtfully although he spat out some of the rind a few minutes later, making a sour face. He didn't fancy Marlboro fruits. **

"**Do you think Ashe is feeling okay?" Penelo asked in a hushed tone, eyeing Basch from the corner of her eye. He placed some Focalor carcasses on the logs, poking at the peeling skin with a slender stick. Vaan shrugged, his eyes following Penelo's gaze, they settled on Basch's back then wandered over to the barely illuminated slender forms of Balthier and Fran. **

"**Even if Ashe isn't feeling okay, I'm sure she'll get over it. It might take her some time but don't worry about it." Vaan ruffled Penelo's hair playfully, eliciting a giggle out of the girl. Penelo slugged him in the arm and the two began their constant almost useless bickering again over Focalors and their chances against a pack of Wendigos in a fight. Things seemed to be smoothing out nicely. Yet there was a feeling of doubt looming over everyone. **

**When everyone had gotten their fill of Focalor flesh (it tasted like motor oil – the kind that you'd use for airships, yet there was a bitter aftertaste) and had drunk their share of water from the three hefty flasks that Balthier had brought along, the group had decided to retire for the night. Everyone was feeling lethargic and there was a general indication of this lethargy in their sluggish actions and their slurred words. Fran had decided to keep watch and Basch had marked their territory with a handkerchief that he'd tied to a bent metal pole. **

**The absence of Ashe's presence did concern her companions but only to a certain extent. By the time Balthier, Vaan, and Fran had retired for the night, placing more logs in the charred pile, Ashe's wellbeing were no longer fresh in their minds yet it still lingered there. Penelo stayed behind, drowsiness had not settled amongst her bones and her wiry muscles yet. She still had some energy left to burn. Deciding to pass the time by doing something productive, Penelo produced a small kerchief that she'd started knitting on with a frayed spool of wood and some pack of needles. **

**A melodic tune passed from her lips, yet the words of the song were lost to her. She worked the needle into the holes, pushing it through strategically with deft fingers. Her eyes glanced over to Basch who was sitting on the moss covered rocky floor, his grizzled face too dark for her to peer at. If it was night, then Penelo wouldn't have known, keeping track of the time so far underground proved to be difficult. Yet she merely assumed it was night because they'd gaited into the cave near the noontide. Minutes passed sluggishly and still Penelo worked until finally the flickering flames waned and illuminated the outline of a muscular frame. **

"**Basch, is that you?" Penelo called into the pitch-black darkness, her eyes caught the sight of embers smearing the wood and she caught the scent of burning charred firewood. The smoke that built up in the air heated her frame and she was thankful for it. Upon further inspection, Penelo found out that it was indeed Basch who'd nearly stumbled over Vaan's heavy knapsack. The older man bowed his head toward her respectfully, his presence alone instilling an increased palpitation within her chest. **

**An innate feeling of nervousness overtook her, making Penelo almost fumble over the needle as she placed her work aside. Basch turned his attention to her, his weathered Sledgehammer strapped across his groin. He was sitting near to her now, his elbow almost touching hers. There was a comfortable silence between them, tension only settling on her side of the fire as the flames roared with more intensity as they licked upon the logs hungrily. There was a thirst stirring within her, Penelo noticed. She gazed upon Basch's deep-set eyes that seemed to resemble the hue of coffee. This thirst could only be satiated through his knowledge – the one that you gained from hard years full of strenuous activity, full of emotional pain and deep regret.**

**Before the girl could even fully mull over why the words had flown from her pallid lips, the query had already sounded out. The question shattered the comfortable silence. And once more tension ran thick so that it made Penelo's blood curdle in a sickening way. It was so thick that she wanted to gag for fear of offending Basch with such a personal inquiry. She felt shame wash over her face and it chilled her spine almost. Her cheeks flushed as the realization poured in. **

"**So did you really murder Reks and the King, or is it all a misunderstanding?" As soon as the question was croaked out (her throat was dry and she really missed that cool flask of water now), Penelo's fingers pressed against her dry lips. She truly regretted asking that, it must have been painful for him to think over. What _would _he say to her? Would he even answer her question at all?**

**Basch's eyes peered at her countenance in an instant and a small frown flickered over his full lips for just a moment. Then he pursed his lips and furrowed his brows before sighing in a way that must've indicated how weary he was and how much it was paining him to reflect back on this. Penelo worried the edge of her kerchief in her hands before his voice pulled her back into its warm roughed edges. It was when he began to speak that Penelo noticed how tired she'd become and how she'd struggled to vie off the approaching fingers of Sleep. **

**Yet, she fought it off, struggled against its unrelenting grasp and forced her bleary eyes to open and to look upon him.**

"**It's all a misunderstanding, my brother framed me when he ought to have been allying with me, and I regret the day I ever set foot at Nalbina Fortress. It was Gabranth who took upon my guise and murdered the king on the eve of the treaty-signing. It was Gabranth who murdered Vaan's brother that day. I was left in shackles and sent off to the dungeons to be tortured for a crime I did not commit ," his voice came out coarser than ever and he cleared his throat afterward, taking a swig from the canteen fastened at his hip. **

**His eyes noticed the way Penelo's body swayed to the side and he studied the way she succumbed to the drowsiness that was beckoning her, it was all in the way she'd try to stifle a yawn or when she'd try to keep herself upright. It never really worked.**

"**I'm sorry." Penelo murmured amongst the soft crackling of the flames that sounded like a sweet lulling melody to the girl's ears. Basch only nodded and studied the flickering flames, the orange and red glows seemed to entice his sight.**

"**You should rest now, it is late." The way he said it sounded almost paternal in a way. _Then again, _Penelo mused to herself, _Basch _**_is** like the father of the group**_**. And she found that it was true, Basch was a devoted man. He was a man who truly deserved the title of a knight for his loyalty to the group – to Ashe mostly, was unwavering. In the following minutes, Penelo and Basch had learned more about each other than they had during their entire journey together. The time they'd wasted babbling on about enjoyable memories from their faded childhood, was almost endless. **

**And when the last cinder barely sparked, Penelo had already succumbed to sleep. Her mind was thinking on Basch's faked betrayal, his departure from his homeland that was nothing more than earth and crumbled dirt now, his departure from his brother – Gabranth or Noah as that was his real name, and the path that he'd inevitably chosen. **

Part II. The Blue Divide Ashe's Turn

**The morning approached and with it came the warmth that Ashe had been longing for. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were no longer livid but now they held a light – not at all fluorescent but just natural light from the filtered sunbeams above. Her eyes were still like stars they still held everything within their light stormy irises. They still reflected refracted sunbeams, and they still looked like the light within them could implode like meteors rocketing through the galaxies. **

**The young woman shrugged the flimsy covers off of her shoulders and she suppressed the urge to look at the glinting band around her wedding finger. The ring was a constant reminder of Rasler and it always brought back his ghostly image to her mind. She'd glanced at it now because it was just _there _and it calmed her nerves only a bit yet it also let memories flood back from the recesses of her mind. Biting her bottom lip, Ashe recalled the conversation she'd had with Balthier a few days before. **

**The shock of his confession to her still reeled through her mind like a piercing torpedo. She could never fathom what it had been like for him to be bounded to the confines of a burdensome judge uniform, donning a brassy helm, and taking up the title of an official lawmaker. She couldn't fathom how such a cool and collected young man could ever live in the shadow of a father who'd succumbed to the powers of a mere stone. Ashe thought over the words he'd told her, she tried to discern the meaning of his words the night before, she'd been stressing over it, and finally as she awoke this morn, she'd found the meaning behind it. **

**Balthier had tried to help her, he'd wanted her to make the right choice, he was warning her of something. _But why is he warning me? _Ashe thought with a slight agitation as she stepped into her soft beige bed slippers. She took the time to wash her hair near the incline that was located near a waterfall that dropped off steeply into the mouth of a small river. **

**Her tendrils were dripping wet and the water slopped down her sloping neckline until she wiped her hair off with a washcloth. She shed her clothes and took the small bar of herbal soap from her knapsack, still musing over Balthier's revelation to her about his father and what those blasted words _meant_. Stepping into the cool water that she'd just jumped down into, making the water pool around her bare toes and cool her heated flesh, Ashe let the sounds of the roaring falls lull her into a reverie. The water trickled over her body as she washed the accumulated grime from her curvaceous form, letting the soap suds cling to her hair and bubble up near her torso. **

**"_Don't lose your heart to a stone. You're too strong for that, Princess._"**

**"_All this running and I got nowhere. It's time to end this – Cut my ties to the_ _past._" **

**His words echoed in her mind, constantly puzzling her with their cryptic messages. The bath cooled down her sweating skin and she stepped out of the cool pool, clinging unto the face of the cliff and climbing up the steep sloping rock face with moderate difficulty. She wore a simple white dress and some worn brown boots. The attire was not at all regal she noted, but she longed for something more appropriate for the warm clime. She'd scraped her knees against the jagged edges, grinding her teeth as her flesh ached and became raw, stinging as blood oozed out. Ashe finally came to the surface, she felt the rough hand of Basch pull her up and she quietly thanked him. **

**Her eyes travelled to the small huddle of people crowding around a steaming pot filled with a strange broth. Penelo was having a friendly banter with Vaan over something that was inaudible to Ashe. Basch was beckoning Ashe over to cooling bowl filled with soup and the girl had to admit that the broth did smell rather good. The scent wafted over to her nostrils and she let the steam warm her cheeks, forgetting about the Empire and forgetting about Vayne Solidor and his convincing façade. The soup trickled to the back of her throat and it burned as it trailed down to her stomach, making her bowels twist and knot so that bile rose up in her throat. **

"**Morning Princess, I trust that you had a fitful beauty sleep." Balthier smiled that infectious smile that made the sun blush and made the ugliest of wyrms appear to be beautiful. Ashe closed her eyes, trying to avert her eyes from him. She laced her fingers, staring at the gleaming wedding band and noticing the one that graced Balthier's ring finger.**

"**Yes, I did." She responded in that voice that was always devoid of anything sincere or sweet, that voice that was composed of tinning bells and bittersweet coffee.**

**Ashe's stern gaze penetrated his amber eyes, as her lips pursed in that characteristic tight-lipped smile which barely curved at the corners. Balthier smirked at her, taking her verbal blow with his head held high proudly. Still Ashe peered through the cracked corners of his mask, saw into the hidden recesses of that mask and noticed the weaknesses that he tried his best to hide. **

**He winked at her, smiled, and then sauntered over to Fran, engaging in another wordless conversation with his partner. Their conversation never produced any childish banter like with Penelo and Vaan nor did it elicit any heated arguments that crossed the border of bantering. It was simply soundless communication that tested the boundaries of the ability to merely communicate through the use of gestures and soft inaudible whispers. **

**Fran knew Balthier like she knew the back of her palm and he her. **

**The cyclical transition from eating to stalking out foes began again. The clanking of clay plates and silverware were heard as Penelo and Fran set about washing the dishes and placing them back in the bag officially dubbed, "The Silverware Pack" by Vaan. Basch and Ashe took the time to sort through vials of Hi-Potions and small packs of Smelling Salts and other curative objects of the like. The whole process involved layering on armaments and accessories as well as weaponry. Penelo and Fran carried the rucksack that held provisions such as Remedies and foodstuffs that were needed during their elongated journeys. **

**As soon as Basch mapped out an area that they could move to so that they could relocate their camp, the group was ready to set out. Vaan as usual snuck off to the backlines of the group so that he could plunder from Zombie Knights and Imps as his fingers were eager to pluck. Basch held Penelo close and this rose some curious eyebrows, including Ashe's who regarded Penelo as a confidante and Basch as a paternal figure. Yet the princess shook it off, knowing how overprotective Basch was due to the nature of his profession. **

**The group's arduous trailing brought them back to the peculiar door that seemed to be more elaborate than the other ruined doors that had creaking hinges. Basch stepped to the front, his eyes studying the pattern of the designs, he licked his lips, then pushed the doors open slowly. The creak met everyone's ears and the sound was almost eerie in the quiet area of the dreary caverns. What met the group was a sight that they weren't prepared to really face off against. As soon as the sound of shrieking met their ears, Penelo reflexively clung unto Basch's collar, a shiver running down her spine. **

**_Additional Author's Notes –_ **_And it's done. I had to reedit some parts in the story because when I read some of Balthier and Ashe's dialogue at one part of the story, it sounded rather stilted, so I had to cut it out. Don't worry though there'll be more Balthier x Ashe interaction come next chapter, I just have to clear my head and get lots of rest. I hope you enjoyed the Basch x Penelo bits; I'd like to think of them as the dynamic duo since they work rather well fighting against Imps and other ugly little foes. Plus their growing relationship is very fun to explore as is the one between Balthier and Ashe. _

_Well, as I mentioned in the commentary above, this fanfic will jump around with the timeframe a lot, so expect some memories from Basch or even from Ashe to pop up sometime later. This is still a rather fresh project and I do have a long ways to go in the game, so I'll be updating as soon as I get to some new cut scenes in FFXII. Okay that's enough of my pointless ranting. I hope you enjoyed this and until next time, I bid you all a goodnight._

_Thank you for reading,_

_TerrisMoon_


	2. Chapter II: The Princess and the Pirate

**Pentagram Equations**

**-**

**The Blearing Phoenix**

_**Disclaimer -** I do not own the characters featured in this story nor do I own the plot, those belong to SQUARE-ENIX._

_**Summary - **(In-Game) Friendship can be found in the most unlikeliest of people during the oddest of circumstances. (Brief Balthier x Ashe and Implied Basch x Penelo)_

_**Chapter Summary – **The musing continues, random flashback sequences are played out,_ _and a certain apparition prepares to battle the ragtag party. _

_**Author's Notes – **Warning: The time period for this fic tends to jump between previous memories experienced by Basch or Penelo so the events of each chapter may have no connection to one another sometimes – in other words they could be there to explain the main characters' motives for doing what they do. The same is to be said for Balthier x Ashe, although there interactions will be solely introduced in the second chapter._

_Enjoy the next installment guys,_

_x The Blearing Phoenix (used to be known formally as, TerrisMoon)_

Chapter II. The Princess and the Sky-Pirate

_Flashback sequence. Two years ago ..._

**Ashelia B̀nargin Dalmasca had been widowed for more than a year now and since then she'd taken refuge in the sluices of the Garamsythe Waterway. A learned passage helped her lead a new band of allies from the Royal Palace grounds to the slimy labyrinthine sewer. The waterway was some complex structure of underground aqueducts, pipes, twisting drainage systems, and crumbling ancient stairways. No map had been made as of yet, so the group had spent the majority of their time trekking through the area listlessly.**

**As an esteemed princess, Ashelia had been known to be stubborn and fiercely devoted to her people and her kingdom. Yet as it was, when she'd been handed a small wooden shield and a short pointed sword for the first time, her hands had felt more calloused and more raw than ever. Her hands were a physical testament to her suffering and it showed how much she'd been through in the small amount of time. Her eyes were sore from crying, her lips were chapped from the dehydration it suffered from. And her poise was too ungainly for someone of her position. **

**Yet she forced herself to sidle against walls and climb up the remains of stone stairs. She did it all for her father, King Raminas, she did it all for Rasler, and she did it for the fallen people of her world. She changed her name, giving herself a new title, A_malia_ so as to hide her identity from the commonfolk of the city. **

**She rarely ever climbed to the surface and it had been years since she'd inhaled fresh sweet air. And it had been years since she'd drunk bitter wine from gold-plated goblets. Ashe had found that she longed to sleep in her plush velvety sheets and she longed to eat good healthy food. Her life was a huge spiralling circle that consisted of her will to survive: she fought, trained tirelessly, and commanded a small group of fighters. She refused to call her group an insurgence for they were fighting for a just and rightful cause. Ashelia B̀nargin Dalmasca had died and she'd witnessed a personal change within herself. **

**Ashe stood in the ankle-high water, the light drifting from the small holes in the tall ceilings, formed a golden halo around her dusty brown tresses. Her white strapless top exposed her midriff and her short skirt was doing very little to keep her warm against the cold temperate. She hugged her arms, trying to keep the image of Rasler's warm smile alive in her budding memories of him. Her silver sword was a plain weapon with an inelaborate metallic blade. Its edges were dull from her overuse of it. The hilt was a basic bright cerulean rubbery covering that protected her grimy fingers from peeling. **

**The shield that she'd buckled to her left arm (as she was not ambidextrous and only relied on her left hand) was just as plain in design as her sword was. It was a medium-sized shield that spanned the length of her forearm and it was carved from birch wood. The surface was worn and scratched. It served as her only fender and she constantly battled with it. Yet today, these weapons were held loosely in her fingers. Now, she pursed her lips and clicked her metallic heel-pointed shoes, then she swung the sword in a wide rounded arc. **

**The air whistled as she cut through it, letting dust particles scatter about as her stormy irises became a bright steely grey. A shaft of sunlight had blanketed over the stone dais that Ashe stood near. Her hip leaned into the hard pointed edge of the platform. The light cast a golden hue on Ashe's dull strands and formed an orange outline against her white and pink clothing. She stayed here, listening to the rushing sounds of the water gushing down the sides of the drainage systems. Ashe let the water pool around her feet and for once she felt calm. Yet the calmness wasn't built around the place itself, it was built around the idea that she might be able to escape from this dreary dimly-lit place.**

**The area had become ingrained in her memory and the young girl had learned every crevice and every pathway that had led to it and that had led from it. She knew how cool and hard the floor felt when you pressed your fleshed cheek against it. Ashe knew how to access the Gateway that led to Lowtown from a secret passageway that led to the West Sluice Control. She even knew how to navigate through the series of narrow waste pipes. In the small amount of time that she'd hid there, the waterway had become something akin to her home.**

**Her eyes held the stars within them. They were fierce blazing rocketing balls of molten fire that burst into tailing streaks of light. Ashe glanced to her left and she heard the shift of armour against the cold stone floor. A soft grunt alerted her and she honed her ears, listening to the trickling of water and then feeling the cool metal glove brush against her bare shoulder. Had it been anyone else, had it even been a judge, then Ashe would have shivered. **

**Yet looking up into the person's eyes that mirrored the colour of Madhu wine (an odd mixture of olive green and dark brown), Ashe recognized the person as her consort. Vossler was the man's moniker and it was the name she addressed him by. He was a seasoned warrior, his face was a sharp contrast against hers, it was an angular square shape framed by sharp lines and contours. **

**His voice was layered with a softness that was only reserved for her and he usually called her by her pseudonym. Today, however, he glanced at her with a heaviness in his livid eyes. **

"**Four of our men have fallen, my liege. The soldiers have infiltrated our camp." Vossler's gaze never lifted from her visage. His voice was cool and it didn't have that soft edge to it. It felt like a piercing barb against her bruised heart. Ashe pressed a fisted hand into her breast, her eyelids shielding her brilliant stormy eyes from his gaze. So much death haunted her, it was as if the Gods were taunting her. The races of Ivalice were marionettes, mere puppets for the Gods to toy with. Was this how the Fate of her county, her world, her home would be played out?**

"**We shall send in for additional reinforcements. Tell our scout, Lyse to report back to me and to confirm the invaders' locations. We will strike down the opposition with everything we have." Ashe's voice had returned to its dead flat tone yet there was a slight sliver of remorse cutting through it. **

**Vossler noted the flickering change in Ashe's persona yet he never commented on it, instead he bowed to her, turned on his heel, and walked away. He would fulfill his duties to her, as he was her knight, Ashe told herself.** **The thoughts of Rasler's corpse slumped over Basch fon Ronsenberg's lap settled in her mind. A most unpleasant and unsettling lump formed in her throat. Steeling herself in the primmest way she could, Ashe gripped her sword tightly and followed Vossler into the West Sluice Control. **

* * *

_End of flashback sequence. Two years later ..._

**Now Ashe was suffering from severe frostbite, her rosy lips quivering, her cheeks too pallid to be considered normal, and her toes numbed. She'd been trying to regain the sense of _feeling _within her fingers for over an hour, and only Basch or Fran had spared her a glance or two. Their brows were furrowed in worry, or at least Basch's was. Fran's expression was indiscernible. It had been two years, if Ashe had counted it properly, since she'd fallen out of the insur–resistance's caring hands. It had been barely a month since Vossler had fallen. The thought tore through her mind as if it were shredding it apart. It opened fresh wounds within her. Ashe wasn't about to forget** **about Vossler, Rasler, or King Raminas.**

**She felt more unsteady and more defeated than ever, wading through the slushy snow in her short little skirt, shivering until her teeth chattered and until her very bones ached. Yet the girl pressed on fiercely, just as she had when she'd first held a sword at eight-years-old. Throughout the gashes and the torn lips and the wailing, Ashe had slammed the hilt of that sword into Basch's shield repeatedly. That same fierceness was burning within her guarded heart even now.**

**Balthier was placing some new ammunition into his Ras Algheti rifle, the slender firearm shot out silent rounds that the group was grateful for. Balthier's previous weapon, _Sirius_ had made a resounding booming noise that left Vaan and Penelo shaken and stiff. It had also attracted too many bloodthirsty monsters for the group's liking. Yet now, the party was on a quest to retrieve the Sword of Kings for the Gran Kiltias. The ancient being was revered within his community for he could foresee. He could predict the future through dreams. He was sleepless, he was always conscious, always concentrating upon the futures of the people who frequented Mount Bur-Omisace. **

**It was when the Gran Kiltias had entrusted Ashe and her comrades with the daunting task that Larsa had bid them farewell. It wasn't a tearful goodbye, yet it was truly emotional for them as he proved to be helpful beyond belief to them. His strength and his intelligence were nothing short of amazing, Ashe noted. He was wise beyond his years and he held a sweet softened compassion that warmed their hearts – although it took Ashe awhile to truly warm up to him. So it was with heavy hearts that they turned and walked through the great doorway of the temple. **

**Ashe's new sword was sheathed upon her back, it proved to be weighty for her, and she'd heaved her chest, sucking in air, to help sustain the additional weight. It was still a beautiful glacial weapon, composed of frozen ice particles. Her shield was a huge diamond shaped shard of ice that had been sized down so that it was barely the size of Dalmasca's royal flag. Basch had purchased new armaments for them and Penelo had stocked up on some new foodstuffs so that Vaan's beige knapsack was hefty again**.

**As usual, the group split into two separate parties, as it was decided through a vote. Vaan was sneaking upon Skeleton Warriors, rattling their bones as he picked through their skeletal bodies. He'd nip the bones and rummage around in them, drowning in their essences and picking out their loot. His fingers were deft his dexterity on his feet was quick and he spun around, swiping the air with his dagger almost blindly, cleaving the Skeleton Warriors' bones into fragments. Fran was by his side, chucking Potion vials through the air and whispering incantations with her harsh lilted voice. **

**Basch was keeping the group of Wild Onions at bay, they were a strain of mandragoras that flailed around wildly shrieking an earsplitting scream so that the groups' ears rang. The sound resonated and it stopped abruptly as a bullet caught the one of the little creature's sides. It stumbled backward against the rock face, snow covered its face as it scrambled about on its feet. Balthier aimed again, a lopsided grin making him appear more roguish than usual, his hand gripped his rifle and his finger hesitated on the trigger. Ashe narrowed her eyes at him, her silent gaze urging him to shoot at the evil little fiend. Yet the unspoken communication had silenced Balthier. He was staring resolutely ahead at his white-haired partner. **

**Nodding to her quietly, Balthier aimed his rifle at the squealing mandragora, he bit his lip, levelling the barrel with its round head, and then he pulled on the trigger. The force of the blast sent him reeling back a bit. The Stone Bolt ammunition was** **too powerful for him to manage. Ashe steadied him with a stern look in her eyes, that starry spark lost somewhere amongst the grey hues of her irises. Muttering an apology in that voice composed of tinning silver bells and slow-moving molasses, Ashe pressed her back against Balthier's flimsy shirt. The fabric was too thin for the clime, she thought. **

"**I'm quite all right," Balthier smirked at her in that devilish way, he straightened his cuffs, and cleaned the barrel of his gun with his shirttail. Ashe nodded to him mutely before she brought her sword down upon the Wild Onion, the creature had already squealed out a Sleep spell and so Vaan was snoring and nodding his head with a deliriously pleasant grin on his face. Ashe tossed an Alarm Clock at him. The force of the round clock making Vaan awaken, his face wide-eyed and his mouth agape. He shook his head, making his hair whip about his tanned face. **

**Penelo was diving straight into the huddle of Skeleton Mages with Basch as her human shield. He'd literally launched himself into the chanting, spell-casting Undead Mages, headfirst. His Sledgehammer became a distinct blue blur that appeared to be a dark azure stain against the harsh nipping winds and the frigid snowflakes that had settled on the snowy mountainous floor. Rocks ringed around the stretch of the icy frozen lake, a thin film of ice made it almost impossible to traipse upon. It was here that Penelo had fallen, as she had been knocked aside by the narrow head of a Slaven. **

**Vaan rushed to her side, his dagger was substituted for a more fitting Flametongue sword, he swung this around in an impressive 90°angle. It was an interesting sight, seeing Vaan pivot on his heels, never losing his footing, always holding his torso erect. His eyes were always staring into that spot, that tenderness underneath the Slaven's protective thick hide. **

**He plunged his sword into that spot, listening to the curling growls of anger and despair. He let the blood wash over the hide, draining out, and staining the pure white snow into a rich burgundy tone. Penelo was helped up by Basch, and his fingers were unusually warm in her small scratched fingers. **

**If Vaan had noticed how Basch had fondled her hands in his, rubbing his own fingers over her scratched marred palms, then he never uttered a word about it. Fran's voice called out to him, ringing out to cut through the whipping gales that let her hair dance around and around in a bleared hue of greyish whiteness. Penelo's cheeks were flushed and they reddened at the prospect of having Basch actually bandaging her fingers with the tenderest of expressions gracing his face.**

"**Basch, thank you. I'm fine, though, really." A cute girlish giggle composed of innocent melodic sweetness** **and childlike naivete, met his ears. Basch smiled and unlaced his fingers from her, he appeared more overprotective of her than usual. He combed his matted golden hair with his grime-caked fingers and he searched for a small lake. Motioning to Penelo and Fran, Basch led the group to a small lake. The water there was cold and it had been frequently visited by the Wild Onions (yet they were all dead now). Yet the liquid was refreshing and it seemed free of any waterborne diseases, so Basch filled Penelo and Fran's canteens with it. **

"**Basch, have you found a good camping site?" Ashe called out, her voice losing that bell-like quality it had minutes ago. Basch nodded and called over to Balthier, Vaan, and Ashe. The three of them gaited toward them, their weapons sheathed and covered, their bodies strained from the amount of exertion it was put through. **

**In a matter of fifteen minutes, the men of the group had brought a bundle of firewood to set about near a small outcrop of rock that overlooked the rest of the stretch of mountain ranges. The sounds of crackling, licking, burning flames were welcomed into the groups' ears. And soon the tangy smell of roasted Slaven flesh wafted into Ashe's flaring nostrils. **

**Fran had helped Penelo make a stew out of some potatoes that they'd foraged from a small hut with a thatched roof. They'd found it amongst the deep sandy dunes in the Giza Plains during the rainy season. Now they peeled the starchy plant tuber with a small plain dagger that had a blade more suitable for peeling off potato skin than for cutting gashes into a monster's hide. **

**Then they dropped the potatoes into the watery liquid, pinching powdery spices like coriander and cracked peppercorns from small bowls. They dashed it in there, tasting it, adding in more spices, putting in more salt crystals. When it had bubbled and boiled, filling the air with an enticing aromatic scent (it was piquant and slightly tangy, but it was rich and satisfying to the refined palate), then Penelo took it off the burning logs.**

**Fran set out the flasks and she rummaged around in 'The Silverware Pack' until she'd found a particularly elaborate set of silverware. The scraping of spoons against clay bowls as well as the din of squabbling and chatter filled the air. Basch, Balthier, and Fran were talking about good mapping strategies and Balthier had pulled out a piece of parchment and an ink pen from his breast pocket. He sketched out a map of the terrain and then he folded it up and handed it to Basch who pocketed it. **

**Penelo, Vaan, and Ashe were holding a lively discussion about Dalmascan music and the culture of its diverse populace. According to Vaan, Bangaa folk music was extremely well liked by the Hume population of Rabanastre. He described it as such, "it's like an odd popping sound filled with soft guitar riffs and catchy drumming beats. It's really neat, if I ever find** **some I'll be sure to let you listen to it." Ashe smiled genially at him as she sipped the cooling brew, feeling a comforting warmth growing in her stomach. She ate the hearty meal with satisfaction, her mind wandering over to Balthier and his past and his driving force that might've led him to ask for her ring. **

_**Additional Author's Notes – **I told you this was random and I'm too tired and too blah-feeling to add to this. I will update a much longer and much meatier chapter though. It'll be filled with action and character interaction and plot development, so expect that. This was showing you what Ashe felt, we get a glimpse into her head and we barely get to see her interact with Balthier. For any of you guys that like fast-paced stories, I'd advise you to turn away now. _

_This is going to be pretty slow-paced since it focusses solely on the development of the main characters and the people they interact with (i.e. Basch and Penelo & Ashe and Balthier). I was thinking of adding an OC (original character) to come into the storyline with her own back story but I'm doubting that I'll work on that._ _And if I do add an OC then I'll pair her off with Vaan. This is because reworking him in with another character of my own creation would be a good way to experiment on my OC's character development and her influence on the main plot line._

_I'm promising you that this story will only get better. And if you liked this chapter (I can't see why you would, it's pretty boring and pretty bad), then you'll love the next one. I think my cold pushed me to do this, usually when I'm sick I write pure drivel but this came out half-baked. Anyway, expect more depth in the next chapter, okay, so hold on tight. _

_I hope you liked this (if you don't then tell me why ... don't flame me, it's pretty silly if you do that). If you didn't like this then please give me some good reasons wh. Just, spew out some criticisms on how I could improve my writing, and then I'll try and make the corrections. Otherwise than that, thanks for reading and if you got this far in reading this, than I'm impressed at your patience._

_This is turning into a nonsensical rant, okay I'm going to stop. So, have a good day and a good night. _

_Love you all._

_Thanks so much for encouraging me to do this,_

_The Blearing Phoenix_


	3. Chapter III: Of Time and Evolution

**Pentagram Equations**

**- **

**The Blearing Phoenix**

_**Disclaimer -** I do not own the characters featured in this story nor do I own the plot, those belong to SQUARE-ENIX._

_**Summary - **(In-Game) Friendship can be found in the most unlikeliest of people during the oddest of circumstances. (Brief Balthier x Ashe and Implied Basch x Penelo)_

_**Chapter Summary – **The musing continues, random flashback sequences are played out,_ _and a certain apparition prepares to battle the ragtag party. _

**_Author's Notes –_** _I just want to thank you guys for giving me such positive feedback, I specifically want to dedicate this chapter to Wakamoley, Girl-who-sings-the-blues, Mandamirra10, and Cailin Skylark. You guys were so awesome, your reviews were absolutely lovely, positive, and helpful. It really made me feel proud to be authoring this story. The next chapter after this will be solely dedicated to Sweet Valentine because she just deserves it for taking out the time to read this. _

_Once again, I want to thank you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter. _

_P. S. This chapter was inspired by the song, "Walls" by the metalcore/screamo band, Emery. They have this love/hate and good/evil thing going on with their lyrics, they manage to balance it well. In this chapter I wanted to focus on the themes of evilness and goodness. As you may or may not know, there's a thin line separating those two qualities from one another. _

_How will these themes be represented? You'll just have to read and find out for yourself. _

_Happy Reading!_

_Sincerely,_

_x The Blearing Phoenix_

Chapter III. The Theories of Time and Evolution/Part One

**Penelo had woken up as soon as the sun's first rays had glared straight into her bleary azure eyes. There was a flash of swirling red and orange before the girl blinked and let out a weary sigh. She trudged through the camp, picking up smouldered pieces of kindling as she went in search of the 'Silverware' knapsack. A curious glance towards the sleeping bundled form of Vaan, revealed that the knapsack was protectively hugged to his chest. Penelo suppressed a chortle, it wasn't the first time that Vaan had sleepwalked his way toward the stockpile. **

**Remembering how Vaan had rudely awoken her from her own slumber three morns ago, Penelo tiptoed over to the tousled haired boy and gave out a tiny shriek into his ear. Startled, the thief let out a yelp, kicked off the ragged covers, and glared at his companion. Penelo stood there, her fingers digging into her hipbones, leaving grazes on her pale skin. Vaan mussed up his hair with long spidery fingers, his own eyes blurred and hazy from his oversleeping. **

"**Thanks for being my personal alarm, Penny." Vaan scoffed, combing through his hair with a spare brush he'd fished out of his brown backpack. The sounds of feet padding across the ground and bubbling pots of porridge, snapped Penelo out of her reverie. The thoughts of her knightly comrade invaded her mind as she gnawed on her bottom lip. Basch was revealing.**

**The Republic of Landis was no longer home to him. He was a wanted man, a branded traitor. Swallowing hard, so that the lump in her throat was forced down, only to burn her esophagus, Penelo focussed on Vaan's back. The dizzying scent of wildness, like musty rain, dirt, and comforting smells of pine needles, all wafted into her nostrils. The smell was intoxicating and Penelo found herself shaking her head to rid her nose of it. She found the source, burly and stalwart with his defined jawbone clenched as he gaited toward Vaan and herself. **

"**Fran is tending to our breakfast, Penelo she requires your assistance," his deep-set eyes paused on her visage, the gaze softening so that it relaxed her shoulders and cleared her mind. Then Basch turned to Vaan, leaned down, whispered something in the boy's ear that made him nod with a broadened childish grin on his face, and steered him toward Balthier's tent. When Penelo peered at them over her shoulder, with flecks of gray tinted snowflakes settling around her ankles, the two figures had become blurred specks amongst the strained sunlight. She trekked through snow and finally came upon Fran whose lips upturned so slightly that it could be counted as a smile of sincerity. **

**The viera handed the young girl a bowl of thick warm porridge and gestured over to the vacant stool next to Ashe. Voicing some thanks to the kindly vieran warrior, Penelo ate hungrily, carefully avoiding her newly washed pastel pink nightgown. The dress was far too long to skirt comfortably around her bare calves and it reached past her ankles to tickle the back of her heels. The sleeves covered her elbow, forearm, and shoulders and only exposed her slim wrists and delicate hands. Yet she treasured the old garment as it was a gift from her mother. **

"**That's a fine nightgown you're wearing, we never had such simple garments back at the Royal Palace in Rabanastre," Ashe smiled genuinely as she spooned some of her porridge and blew on it, cooling it some. Penelo nodded, staring at the desert floor moodily as images of her mother flooded her mind. It was all rather accidental. She hadn't meant to bring up thoughts of her again. She didn't want to remember the natural smell of the woods that seemed to _live _within the very being of her mother's soul. She didn't want to reflect on the amount of times she'd been lulled to sleep by her mother's just-made-up lullaby songs that were often offbeat and rather long. But she did and it couldn't be helped because remembering was just natural.**

"**Yeah, my mom made it for me ... before the Plague took her about four years ago. It's the only thing I have left of her." Then she lost in that moment, that levelheadedness, that precise coolness broke down and was severed like a thin line of thread. She blinked back stinging tears and sniffled harshly, still gluing her eyes to the ground. Ashe nodded solemnly, her lips pursed, her eyes holding a fierce compassionate empathy within their soulless stormy depths. **

**For once the starry qualities looked alive and full of emotion and they sparkled with that yearning, longing hunger to feel and reach out to every person that had known loss.** **Penelo sensed that and the feeling overwhelmed her because Ashe _was _Ashe, she just was. She was composed of practised strength and brazen honour – almost covered and shielded by unbreakable stubbornness and determination. This was the most emotion she had ever expressed in just one look, through her entire time with them, Penelo knew it.**

"**I'm sorry. I'm sure she was a beautiful and intelligent woman. She raised you well and she'd be proud to see you here fighting for your country." With those words of encouragement spoken in that levelled rich bell-like tone, Ashe returned to her meal. Penelo felt the heaviness lift from her heart and nodded to Balthier as he seated himself next to the benevolent princess. There was a definite insurmountable amount of tension that was walled between them. Ashe had huddled next to Penelo, engaging in a whispered conversation about gadgetry and technicks with the usually bubbly young girl. **

**Balthier sensed the young heiress's silent treatment and he made a silent "hmph", for he knew that she'd come around sooner or later. He fingered the ring. A troubling thought crossed and rippled through every other whimsical one that he'd ever mused over. What had plagued him to take the ring? It wasn't that valuable a treasure that was to be sure. However, it was valuable in a far more idealistic sense rather than in a materialistic sense. It was a keepsake, a constant reminder of Ashe's dear deceased beloved. And by taking it, Balthier may have offended and may have soiled the poor Princess. That would certainly explain why she was visibly sulking away near him. **

**He remembered (even if it was for a moment) that Ashe had lost her entire family and that she'd also been widowed at an extremely young age. At nineteen, the royal heiress was showing matured characteristics that most girls her age lacked. She was trained to be stone faced, to hold her head up high and to straighten her shoulders, and she was trained to pelt potential suitors with words of cold ice that was layered with fake sweetness.** **She was a felicitous queen-to-be that was for sure. However, there was something more human to her behind those soulless spellbinding eyes. Her stormy swirling irises were windows to her soul and they whispered of her hidden fears and her wants and desires**.

"**There's no need to apologize, Penelo, really I'm learning to cope with it." Ashe smiled ruefully at Penelo and handed her bowl to Fran who sauntered off to wash it in a small basin. Basch was discussing his next course of action with Balthier. The crinkled map was in his hands. He glanced over at the two young girls and nodded to them, his faint bristled ginger stubble brushed across his knuckles softly. Penelo noticed this with narrowed eyes as she scrubbed at a clay bowl fiercely. Vaan squatted down next to her, his bow was in the snow, a Parallel Arrow was slotting into it. The boy's eyes were averted from the older men. His ears were tuned in to eavesdrop on their faint whispers however. **

"**Penelo, you're constantly looking at him, Basch I mean." Vaan's statement made the young ripening girl blush. Her cheeks were tinted into a rosy pink hue. Touching her cheek with her white fingers, trying to issue some warmth into them, Penelo mentally brushed his statement aside. But her eyes were betraying her, they were studying the sharp contours of Basch's face, they were analysing the way his narrow tongue traced his full bottom lip. Only Vaan's boyish baritone could lull her back to reality, but even then Penelo still found her concentration on her friend dying. Ashe was helping Fran pack up some leftover Slaven stew. Penelo stole a sneaky glance over at Balthier and Basch again.**

"**Penelo?" Vaan sighed in frustration and hugged his shoulders, his knees quaked, and his blue lips trembled furiously. **

"**Huh, oh, I'm sorry. I-I lost my head there for a second," Penelo smiled apologetically, turning the corners of her mouth into a tight convincing smile. Vaan sighed again, releasing a ball of visible air sp that it curled out and came out like wispy smoke. Penelo rubbed her elbows, noticing the way her nightgown's hem skirted around her ashy knees. She blew some air out, letting her lungs run cold and then she forced her eyes to stare at Vaan's pallid annoyed countenance. A rise of his thinning arched brows, let her know that he was puzzled at her behaviour. She was acting overly modest than usual and she was tense, too tense for him to just denounce it.**

"**You did it again. Just admit it. You have a thing for Basch don't ya?"**

**Penelo gawked at Vaan's query only to be interrupted by a bloodcurdling shriek that made her very shinbones rattle. Her knees nearly buckled and she almost lost her footing as she scrambled to her feet and swung her knapsack of chinking Hi-Potions and Hi-Ethers. Inhaling a deep breath of cold air, only to swallow it desperately, Penelo bit out harshly, "Even if I did, I'd never tell it to you Vaan.**" **The sandy haired thief glared at her but then his expression softened and he calmed himself, releasing a Parallel Arrow that whistled through the dense nipping cold air. It narrowly missed the bulky creature's square shaped head, sensing that Fran leapt upon the monster and hit at it furiously until the hammer met the monster's lips and tore at the flesh.**

**The tinkling of coins and the sounds of flesh squelching and blood gushing out into little rivulets and droplets of red liquid, distracted Penelo. Basch ushered her over to his side with a gesture of his finger. He fingered a Sledgehammer and grabbed the lithe bodied girl by the hips. His fingers teased the sensitive areas of covered flesh and his calloused fingers tickled it until Penelo had to bite back a heaven-filled chortle. She was felt like floating amongst the clouds in the dark firmament and she felt like whispering her fascination with the manly knight to everyone around her. Her hands gripped the cool metal, his own hands gripping hers with a tight reassuring squeeze that heated her knuckles. **

**His groin was braced against her slim waist and his thighs pressed into her calves. When the air whistled and when the hammer cut the air in two, coming around in a neat semi circle, blood sploshed up. It stained their outfits and speckled their noses and their cheeks. **

**Magical energy crackled and produced itself as it tingled through Penelo and Fran's fingertips. Incantations, and magical chained words flew from their lips in a fast repetitive fashion. Green light warmed and glowed until the current of energy ebbed and flowed through them like water. It closed and knit up bleeding gashes and then the sound of gunshots rang through the air. It reverberated off of rock faces and bullets pelted into the Yeti's tough snow white fur.**

**It pounded its massive fists into Basch's temple so that the man heaved a gulp of air in and almost toppled over the cliff. The drop below was deadly and it stretched out to meet a thin sheet of icy lakes at the bottom. The water down there would have channelled out to the area where the Stilshrine of Miriam was located, but the water flow was permanently slowed and frozen. Penelo panicked, her teeth chattered noisily, her lips bumbled out words into a slurred chain of spells. **

"**Curaga. Curaga. Curaga. Curaga," the yellow healing light transferred its steady heat to warm Basch's cold frostbitten body, mainly to his fingertips and nose. His eyelids were moist with water droplets that slid down the sharp bridge of his nose. Penelo was kneeling in the snow, not faring any better as she flailed her arms trying to block the Yeti's angry swipes. Vaan's whizzing Parallel Arrows and Balthier's damaging Aqua Shot bullets fended off the massive snow monster. The young girl's eyes narrowed as she concentrated and focussed her soul and mind into saving Basch's battered and broken body. Prodding at his exposed flesh, feeling for fracture broken bones, Penelo muttered more curative spells. It took a full fifteen minutes of constant poking and healing spells to rouse Basch from his unconsciousness.**

"**Penelo, thank you. I owe you my life at the very least," his voice came out strong and almost nipped at her cheeks. He was leaning into her chest, heaving out broken breaths of air, and fondling her fingers, eyeing the Sledgehammer that she gripped onto desperately. There was an unspoken understanding between Healer and Knight as the girl helped him to his feet by pulling him up, she mustered up all of her magical energy and hurled a Thunderbolt unto the creature, eliciting a howl of pain. **

**It took a showering of Thunder spells and a volley of Aqua Shots to take down the gargantuan guardian. When the bullet shells had tinkled as it hit the rocks below, bounding off pebbles onto topple over the cliff face, Balthier and Basch's groups finally claimed themselves to be victorious. The Yeti's body was hacked at and it took the strong arcs of Basch's Sledgehammer and Ashe's slender sakura-saezuri sword to section out the gullets and the innards and fattiness from the fresh bloody meat.**

"**Hm, my cuffs are soiled. Yetis are nasty beasts that they are, they love to get people's hands dirty and they love to break people's eardrums with their _incessant _howling." Balthier spat out venomously as he poked the bulbous flesh with the butt of his sleek and silver Ras Algheti rifle. His foot struck out at the flesh until it wiggled like jell-o and he wrinkled his nose against the stagnant smell of death that already invaded the dead carcass's open pores. Motioning to the lethargic groups, Balthier led the party through the Silverflow letting them trudge through snow and skid across patches of ice until they battled through a huge Emperor Aevis dragon. **

"**Not bad, 150 gil and a nice Dragon Hide. This could buy us some Gillie Boots, don't you think, Penny?" Vaan smirked at the lithely bubbly dancer, Penelo nodded quietly, her eyes travelling over to the retreating form of Basch. The groups were too tired to fight their way through the long twisted chain of mountains and so they decided to stop near a small cutout of rock that could be just called a narrow cave. The rest of the firewood was piled up and a Fire spell was conjured up by a weary Fran to make a waning fire for food and heat. Some of the rations were divided into sections for the next few days, since according to Basch, the journey ahead would be long, tedious, and tiring. **

"**Like it isn't already, I just wish we had some nice woollen blankets." Vaan pouted moodily as he bit into a slab of warm Slaven meat. He spat out the fat and picked around the thick bone, relishing the odd bitter aftertaste of the meal. It was satisfying and healthy enough so that it would allow him to burn off the fat later on. He took a swig of water from a flask that Balthier passed around while making idle conversation with Ashe who was tending to his wounds. **

**Fran ladled out some broth for Basch and Penelo who trekked into the camp five minutes late with a bundle of extra firewood in their bloodstained arms. The gurgles and howls of Skeleton Mages and Ice Elementals died down at the sky was streaked with violet and dark blue hues. The heavens were starless and the place was silent with the exception of whistling howling winds that nipped and bit at the flesh of the six wayfarers.**

"**It will take us about three more days on foot to reach the Stilshrine of Miriam. There is another frozen lake about half a day's walk from here and that leads us to a pathway that curves around to the entranceway of the shrine." Basch pointed to the map, leaning close to the licking flames so that his hair glistened and appeared to be a golden-yellow colour. Penelo cerulean eyes studied her fingers as she began knitting a woollen blanket for Vaan, there was five more that was left over for the group. She had a bag woven from coarse jute that held all over her knitting supplies in it. She rummaged in the small bag and took out a needle, holding it between her teeth as she used a slimmer needle to stitch and knit up patchwork on the face of the half-finished blanket.**

"**Then we can set out tomorrow as soon as the sun rises. Penelo how much foodstuffs do we have?" Ashe asked, the flames cast a warm orange glow around her face, as she eyed each and every one of her companions with that expressionless countenance that she was known for. The young girl averted her innocent starry-eyed gaze from Basch and regarded the princess with a small nod. **

"**Enough for three-and-a-half days, and we have two bags of water left. We just need to restock on some Antidotes, Remedies, and uh some Echo Herbs." Penelo replied as she peered into the bag. She clasped it shut and placed it by Vaan's hip since he managed the 'Items and Accessories' bag. **

"**And we have enough Rose Corsages and Bangles for everyone in the main and secondary party to wear, am I right?" Balthier asked from the corner of the small cave, he was huddled next to Fran who didn't seem to mind at all. Penelo nodded and returned to knitting the blankets, working the needles into holes, looping thread around every patch and every unstitched area of the quilt. When it was finished, the fire had died down so that the crackling barely rang in Penelo's ears and Basch was the only one watching over the camp. Fran had retired for the night so that she could finish mending Vaan's injuries for him. Ashe had embarked on an arduous journey with Balthier to Eruyt Village to buy some more medicinal supplies for the party and so it was just Basch and Penelo vying off sleep's vicelike grip. **

**Penelo had replayed the scene that had happened only a night ago in her head. It was when Basch had stayed with her while her body had tried to fight off the poison swimming through her bloodstream in a steady flowing motion. Basch now sat on the snow-covered ground squinting against the endless darkness that seemed to swallow his muscular physique up. There was a seemingly endless snow flurry that was carried by harsh whipping winds that howled and whistled and roared between curved Alpine trees.** **Her fingers were adapting skills with the** **slender needle as she wove in and out and hummed to herself to clear her head of her mother and of _home. _Then Basch's soothing voice travelled into her ears and she fought off the drowsiness relentlessly, placed her needle in her burlap sack, and settled next to him.**

"**It's approaching midnight, the sun will soon rise, perhaps you should rest," his eyes were focussed on the darkness still, as if he willed his eyes to squint through the melting dancing snowflakes and the pinching stinging winds. Penelo didn't want to tell him that his presence allowed her to feel comforted enough to no longer want to rest. Although her joints were aching and jostling around in pain, Penelo still resisted the urge to sleep. Basch glanced over at her worriedly, furrowed his brows at her, and returned to looking out into the darkness. Perhaps he was thinking of his home and perhaps he was thinking of his family. It was clear that he had lost something that he'd cherished years ago. **

"**I'm not that tired. But I'm sure you are, maybe you should sleep Sir Basch, you've been tiring yourself out fighting so hard." Penelo breathed out as soon as she made out the slender from of Ashe whose breath was ragged toting a half conscious Balthier in her arms. The young princess trudged toward the camp and almost collapsed unto the ground, the bag filled with bottles and vials of Remedies and Echo Herbs toppled to the ground, making the glasses clink noisily. Basch struggled with Ashe, sprinkling droplets of the saccharine liquid on her hairline so that it trickled down like cough syrup. The girl brightened up almost a few minutes later and the two hauled Basch into his sleeping tent. Penelo was left to kneel amongst the shattered grass fragments, cutting and nicking herself as she tried to tape up the shards again but they were so tiny that it was hopeless. **

**So she scooped up the liquids before they froze in the deadly cold air and let it trickle and dribble into small thermos bottles. She covered the rims with tape so that the liquid wouldn't drain out. And she packed it into an empty bag, penning a title for the pack so that it would be recognisable to anyone who would want to fish out something from it. When all of this had been completed, Fran had emerged from the tent with a bleariness in her eyes and her eyelids were heavy with sleepiness. Her shoulders dropped yet she held them high and peered at Penelo through her thick lashes.**

"**You must sleep. Did Balthier and Ashe fare well during their trip?" Fran enquired as she gathered her long white dress that trailed past her clawed feet. She traipsed daintily through the snow, never seeming to shiver against the fierce cold as she guided the shivering girl into her tent. Basch was already waiting there for her, adding more fire to the kerosene oil lamp that was standing on a small wooden end table. He nodded to the viera and the girl that sauntered in after her.**

"**Balthier is struggling to awaken. Ashe was exhausted. But I think that I can heal them."**

"**No, you must rest yourselves for the morn. I will tend to them." With those words, Fran exited out of the tent with a brisk nod to them both. Penelo shuffled herself restlessly under the covers that she'd made. Basch was already bundled up in his own. He'd discarded his vest and his shorts for a more reasonable pair of black slack pants and a silky white button-up shirt. He settled beside her, his eyes looking straight into her face so that he studied the way her eyes regarded him so forlornly. **

"**Basch, I want to thank you ... for um, for helping me slay that Yeti out there today. You practically saved my life." Penelo smiled benignly, avoiding his eyes so that he wouldn't notice her flushed cheeks. Basch nodded with a small smile that made him appear to be vivacious. **

"**But you helped me as well, so for that I have to thank you, Penelo. What I did was a small feat compared to what you had done for me." A tingling warmth spread through her fingertips and her cheeks reddened so that it resembled the colour of a tomato. **

"**Your welcome, it really wasn't much. Sleep well, Basch," Penelo muttered, turning over and suppressing a yawn as she succumbed to fatigue. **

"**Goodnight Penelo."**

_**Additional Author's Comments** - _Darn. I know I said that this would be meatierand better than the last one but I feel as if I've lessened your expectations for this chapter. Clearly, I didn't put my all into this and for that I have to apologize. I guess I just lost that creative drive again, what with the stupid cold that I caught. But I'm faring better than I was last time so you can expect a much more interesting chapter next time (and I sincerely mean it _this _time, honestly). This is really some filler up until the three-part 'Red Prism' plot arc. That plot arc will expose the group's listless trek through the spooky Stilshrine of Miriam (well it was creepy to me with all the Steelings and the Miriam Facers lurking about). Yeah so the next chapter will be better.

I am a tad bit satisfied with this though, don't get me wrong. But I feel as though I could've put my blood and sweat into this a bit more. Ah well, I guess I just have to suck it up and be pleased with the results. It could've been worse after all. It could've been like three pages long. Lol.

Anyway, as always it'd be nice if you'd leave some feedback before you decide to check out to read some other fics, as it's only polite.

Thanks for reading guys, love you all,

x The Blearing Phoenix


	4. Chapter IV: Red PrismPart One

**Pentagram Equations**

**- **

**The Blearing Phoenix**

_**Disclaimer -** I do not own the characters featured in this story nor do I own the plot, those belong to SQUARE-ENIX._

_**Summary - **(In-Game) Friendship can be found in the most unlikeliest of people during the oddest of circumstances. (Brief Balthier x Ashe and Implied Basch x Penelo)_

_**Chapter Summary –** The party discovers the labyrinthine structure known as the infamous Stilshrine of Miriam. Part One of the 'Red Prism' story arc will commence. _

_**Author's Notes –** Ah, my brain was pretty much like mush these past few days. I had to force myself to even start writing this out. Normally, inspiration strikes me and when that happens I start writing and I let it all flow out. But, this didn't happen so I became frustrated. I didn't want to keep you all anticipating what the next chapter would be like and then throw you off with something inexplicably boring. Boredom in chapters is not fun to pick out and they come by rather easily._

_As I stated in my last commentary this chapter is dedicated to Sweet Valentine for being such a positive and such an amazing inspiration to me. Credit for drawling this one out also goes to the Industrial Rock band, **Nine Inch Nails **and their amazingly catchy and dreamy instrumental, "Just Like You Imagined." Also credit goes to the game, FFXII obviously for its simplistic storyline and its deep characters. _

_Anyway enjoy the crazy dungeon-crawling that will ensue. _

_Happy Reading ! _

_x The Blearing Phoenix_

Chapter IV. Red Prism/Part One (Ashe's Turn)

**It was the smell of cinnamon that stung her nostrils and it was the sweet sound of birdsongs that roused Ashe from her half-slumber. She tiptoed on dirt smeared toes and walked over brambles ignoring the thorns that pricked her skin. Blood beaded on her heels and stained the ground with a most dull hue of crimson and so she bit her lower lip traipsing through the snow and the thickets and thorns. The glaring Sun washed the world in a light yellow glow and it blinded Ashe's stormy eyes for only a minute, so that she saw only spots and speckles of red amongst the clear whiteness of the snow. **

**The princess was shivering and her bones quivered beneath her thin skin. She pressed her fingers to her ice-cold cheeks and willed the numbing feeling to subside. But it did not because willing for things to go away doesn't necessarily mean that they will. Ashe already knew this but she was too stubborn to admit it and she was _cold_, yes she was so cold. Paramina Rift had this frigid cold air swirling around and it had a thick heavy fog that pressed and curled into the corners of your eyes. There was a whipping wind that made the dead branches snap like burning firewood only it was so much more distinct and it was sharper than that. Pulling her thin frock over her arms and buttoning her pastel blue overcoat, Ashe kneeled down amongst the fallen snowflakes. **

**She was in a sea of knee-tingling, bone-quivering whiteness. Whirling, spiralling, dancing snowflakes drifted down from side-to-side, falling up and down in the oddest currents of wind. She was thinking about that sky pirate again. Yes, her mind was pulling out thoughts on that dark-haired honey-eyed pirate of hers. He wore that gleaming silver ring on his finger that had belonged to that princely deceased husband of hers. Balthier was not fit to possess a ring of such high quality. Inornate it was – that was true, but the value behind it held no price – no quantity to Ashe. She still remembered Rasler's day-old laugh when she glanced at that silver band on Balthier's long finger. **

**And so it was Balthier who found her there with her bloodless frosty cerulean blue lips. Her hands were fisted. Her knuckles were ashen and her skin was the colour of the snow surrounding her petite form. She was swaying with the wind although you never would have noticed it unless you had squinted at her. Her frock was pooling around her bloodstained heels and blood droplets dirtied the snowflakes. Balthier frowned distastefully at her shivering form. He'd been having a pleasant dream about flying through puffy clouds that resembled glittering white crowns. And then he'd thought of Ashe somewhere in-between that dream and another dream involving a cocoon of some sort. **

**The thought of seeing her kneeling amongst falling snowflakes in a frigid whipping wind puzzled him. He didn't raise his eyebrows at her in a quizzical fashion however, instead he placed his rifle beside her thigh and kneeled down next to her.**

"**You know I never would have pictured you kneeling in bloodstained snow. I think a cathedral would've been more fitting for a woman of your title." His words didn't reach her ears for she didn't stir. She didn't blink an eye or spit out a scathing remark at him. Balthier almost let a bit of fright pass over his face but he suppressed it with another tight frown. He placed a warm hand on her slender shoulder and pressed his fingers into her skin, she still did not respond to that. Letting out an exasperated sigh for it was truly rather late in the morning and he had not eaten a morsel of food yet, Balthier proceeded to pick up the mute girl. But just as he decided to do so, Ashe stirred and finally regained her senses and sucked in a ball of curling white air just to prove it too. **

"**Balthier, I didn't see you coming, did you just wake up?"Ashe's voice was too faraway to truly pick apart and Balthier found it rather bothersome. He liked the sound of her silverbell-honey sweetened voice yet he couldn't tell the type of tone it had now. **

"**No, actually I've been awake for quite awhile, Princess. It seems like you had quite the daydream I'd say. You hardly moved an inch when I touched you." She gazed at him with those imploding irises that held the very universe in their blurring array of steely, icy greys. Balthier stared right back at her with his amber-tinted irises and then he picked up his rifle. The metal cooled his fingers and the familiar feel of the metal barrel calmed his very mind. The gun was toyed with and various knobs were turned this way and that as he led the bewitching queen-to-be back to the campsite. **

**Penelo and Vaan were the first ones up. They'd felled two towering Twintanias by the overlooking cliff. And now they were hacking at the tough glistening hide making the scales fly about, gleaming all iridescently as the light hit them. **

**Penelo waltzed over toward Ashe with an innocent smile that reminded her of the blooming marigolds and friendly chocobos that nuzzled you affectionately. Still although Ashe was warmed by Penelo's congenial attitude, it didn't lessen her thoughts of Balthier's ever increasing secretiveness. He was prone to saying very little when it came to anything that dealt with family life or familial relations. Perhaps, it had something to do with his past. Perhaps something tragic had happened to him. Maybe that was why he put on that flimsy facade, that mask that hid everything but exposed everything all at once to her. Picking him apart was rarely ever hard for her because Ashe took the time to truly notice all his minute expressions and how they flickered from one emotion to the next. **

**And yet it never meant that she was perfect at reading him. Ashe could not even decipher the meaning of his expressionless stare at her now. That inwardly annoyed her so much that she had to repress the urge to just run up to him and prattle him about his past. Curiosity was tickling her brain and she didn't enjoy it at all. **

**But the fact still remained, he didn't deserve to bear that ring and Ashe was a firm believer of that fact. Ashe settled unto a woven mat and she was handed a bowl of warm porridge that Penelo and Vaan had cooked together. Vaan had apparently poured a little more sugar into the water and oatmeal mixture than was necessary so it was sickeningly sweet. The food seemed tasteless on her tongue and Ashe stirred it around glancing at everyone's countenance. Balthier's visage looked like it was a mixture between contentment and puzzlement. Fran's was discernible as usual and Vaan was peppy. Penelo and Basch were sitting together discussing something that was appropriately private for no one else could spot it out. **

**Ashe spit out the rind of an acidic Marlboro Fruit and slurped out the juice, only dabbing the corners of her mouth with a checkered napkin when it was necessary. She felt sunspots hitting into her eyes and it pressed red specks and blue smeared flecks into her stream of vision. Balthier no longer dominated her mind and he no longer presided over her every thought. Now she was focussing on her primary goal – her only goal which was to retrieve the Sword of Kings. That weapon was the answer to her royal lineage, it was the physical manifestation of her Dynast-King bloodline. She already knew that the journey to obtain it would be riddled with mind-teasing passages and puzzling riddles that made you rack your brain for the answer. **

"**Basch, do you know anything about the Stilshrine of Miriam, is it like a palace or something?"Vaan asked biting into a glinting gold coin to test if it was real or not. Penelo smirked at him all sneakily, a playful glint playing with the azure tints in her irises. **

"**No, it is a shrine Vaan. It was built atop the summit of the Paramina Rift and it was built by a nameless deceased Kiltias. It was a shrine built to protect the treasure of the Dynast-King, a most valuable sword not only valued for its magical power but also for its rich origin. It is known as The Sword of Kings." Basch discarded the thick Marlboro Fruit peelings, casting the foul-smelling rinds into the snow. Balthier grinded them into the crushed ice with his black sandals as he sauntered next to the ever composed Fran. **

**For a time the skin-numbing whistling winds and the occasional chirp of a Winter songbird would break into Ashe's ears, effectively shattering the quiet spell that had blanketed over the land. Ashe still had Rasler and doubt spreading about in her heart. She still saw Vossler's blurred countenance in her mind and tears that had never fallen for the deceased threatened to prickle at the corners of her starry eyes. Yet she suppressed them, refused to ever show a shred of weakness in the face of her adversaries, refused to shed that outer layer called dignity just because Rasler had left that plane of the living world. He had not left her - not really. He still lived on within her soul and within her mind and within the lull of the land.**

* * *

Red Prism/Part Two (Penelo's Turn)

**Penelo watched as the Dust particles floated upwards in a whirling motion, it brushed against her pale apple cheeks and then it drifted toward the snow floor. Her toes curled instinctively as she trekked through the snow wearily. Five Hi-Potions had been strewn about, letting rivulets of green healing liquid stain the ground below. The smell of camomile and vanilla perfumed the air and teased Penelo's nostrils until the bridge of her nose tickled. She held her new katana in both hands, grasping the hilt with sweaty fingers, the weapon was known as, 'Kogaramasu' but Penelo referred to it as her Fiend Killer Katana.**

**There were birds circling above a thin stretch of rock, flapping iridescent purple-tinted wings and dipping slender necks to scan the ground below them.** **The Garuda-Egi was a strain only to be found deep within the annals of the Paramina Rift. They were used to the cold bitter clime that the jagged mountain chains had to offer yet they weren't terribly reclusive, as the group soon found out. A loose stone tripped over a scarred crag that had snow caught in between its knee-deep fissures. The heavy dulling sound attracted the birds' curiosities and they swooped down low. Lowering their wings, dipping slightly to the side, as they gained momentum and glided toward the unsuspecting party. **

**Fran was the first to glance heavenward with her glossy silver hair sleek with beaded sweat that pearled along her hairline. She whistled toward Vaan in a shrilly tinning note and strung a slender Fiery Arrow into her slotted and curved Elfin Bow. Seconds later she let the arrow fly, narrowing her garnet-hued eyes at an injured bird that seemed to be leading the group, Fran rolled her arm and slotted another arrow into the bow, releasing it in a millisecond. Cold breath cooled her fingertips and her feet pressed into the metals of her ankle-high boots. **

**The bird let out a despairing cry and rushed towards the viera, wings beating against the wind letting it pass under and over the appendages. It was adrenaline that surged within the bird's nerves, charging it with inhumane strength, pumping blood faster and faster. **

"**Vaan, cast a Thundara Spell. This strain of Garuda Egi has a weakness against Thunder Spells!" Fran's voice caught itself in the approaching storm but didn't die away, didn't melt into the sounds of the low bellowing winds. Vaan nodded, a slight inclination of his head that made his longs wavy bangs falls forward. Then he chanted and chanted until magic streamed out of every pore and out of every open seam within his mind. It was a focussing thing. Magic spells required concentration, skill, and above all accuracy. Pinpointing your target and willing the spell to attack that target was the key to succeeding for if it missed than the caster was at a terrible disadvantage. **

**Fran had told Vaan this once, in hushed tones by the waning candlelight when the group had stopped for a good rest at the Hunter's Camp within the shoreline of the Phon Coast. He remembered that now, he'd repeated that anytime he'd come across a taupe-tinted Pyrolisk bird that would try to stab at his flesh, yearning for a quenched thirst and satiated hunger. But it never quite quelled the hunger nor did it murder the thirst because the bird never won over its human adversary. Vaan was a lithely bodied man-child, he could grasp and catch invisible purse strings with outstretched fingers. He was a master thief and he was an even better warrior. In the end, his new Trident – a three-pronged spear fashioned from pure gold would be the weapon of his choice. And in the end, it would be stained with rich Pyrolisk blood. **

**But he'd never tested out the weapon until now. Back in the green grassy fields of the Phon Coast's hilly 'training ground', Vaan had relied heavily on Mist magic and it had proved to be particularly useful. So Vaan chanted out Thundara Spells, relishing in the warm light and in the pure powerful energy that he had been able to summon out through his own body. He watched as the crackling and booming Thunder seared the bird's skin repeatedly. It was Thundara, Thundara, gunshot, arrowshot, sword and hammer hits, Thundara, Thundara, and so it went like that until the bird fell, exhausted and defeated. **

"**Do you think we could sell that for a pretty Gil, Fran?" Balthier asked, smiling cheekily as he placed more Stone Bolt ammunition into the metallic barrel casing. He pointed to the smoking gleaming carcass of the last Garuda-Egi that was buried in the stinging snowflakes. Fran shrugged softly and then she walked over next to Vaan, positioning his arms on his bow, whispering little curling secrets of the next foe's tactics for fiend-versus-party confrontations. He'd nod and grin like a charming child being told how to steal with grubby hands from the cookie jar. Balthier watched the whole thing with a twinkle in his eye and a chortle stuck in the back of his throat but he never made a snide comment on it. **

**When the sky's colours bled into one another, melding into thin streaks of vermillion and cerulean, Penelo and Fran were accompanied by a musing Ashe to stake out the area for another camping area to rest. Basch, Balthier, and Vaan were taking turns killing Twintanias, dusting the air with gunpowder and perfuming it with the aromatic scents of Hi-Potions and Cura spells. Balthier was healing Basch, murmuring under his breath quietly and channelling his magical energy through his gun, prodding the barrel into the older man's bare chest. **

"**I am fine, tis' only a scratch." Basch hissed although his eyes were softer than his retort to Balthier's comment on his "persistent acts of altruism." As a knight, Basch was constantly pushing his own well-being to the side. He was always following the code of honour. It was always that way and he never seemed to be able to stop defending his allies. For once, Basch seemed truly incapable of ever forcing himself to continue guarding Balthier for Balthier was adamant. Yes, Balthier was independent and he'd be damned if the heartfelt knight would ever express his "altruism" toward him in any way today. **

"**Oh, but that scratch is bleeding profusely, it'll get infected if I don't heal it. Oh, and we can't have our knight run around with pus-filled gashes, can we?" Balthier arched an eyebrow in that defiant I-_dare_-you-to-defy-me-and-say-I'm-wrong sort of look. Basch sighed and it was somewhere between remorse and apologetic shame, indeed Balthier had shown that he was right. So the willful knight nodded and submitted to Balthier's claim and he let the green light jet out of his gun. Basch watched as it looped and enveloped him, snaking around him and worming its way into that gash, cleansing it with a cool rush of sweet purifying gases. **

**Vaan stood by, lunging in again and again to pilfer from an unsuspecting Emperor Aevis. His fingers twitched around the inornate silver hilt and he slid his foot to the side. He was applying pressure to his hipbone, pressing all that weight into that foot and he squinted at the scales. He glanced in between the minuscule spaces that the scales offered and ducked under the swooping claws of the dragon. The claws caught the sliver of visible moonlight and glinted silver in the refractions of broken light. Vaan caught moon-spots and he blinked and saw the purple haziness that was the dragon, rolling on his abdomen and picking up snow crystals as he went. **

**Balthier approached the boy and called out orders to him, shooting out stony piercing barbed bullets that stung as they pelted flesh. Vaan nodded to him sincerely and stumbled once or twice before he regained his footing on the slippery boulder and hopped off on that pressured foot. The cocoa-eyed gunner kept his distance from the tanned boy and he set the gun for firing in one flick of his forefinger, levelling the gold gleaming barrel with the dragon's flaring nostrils. Pushing his tongue between his teeth, Balthier studied the way the dragon moved, saw the flexing of the sinewy muscles, tried to picture the tendons and the fibrous ligaments, then he pressed on the trigger. He'd found that weak point and he was smirking confidently. **

**Today was a good day. **

"**Vaan, are you all right?" Basch's concerned gruff baritone was coarser than usual, he was hoarse and his voice was scraping against his vocal chords. He was dehydrated for his skin was paling. Balthier glanced at him and wondered if _he _was all right. He lowered his gun as he admired how the bullet nicked the layer of hardened scales and punctured the dragon's skin and then he stared at Basch for a while. **

"**Yeah, I'm fine." Vaan responded as he kicked over the dead dragon, letting rivulets of blood gush out of its fresh smarting wound.**

"**The question is ..., are _you _all right? Your face seems a bit pallid there, the weather's a bit harsh, no?" There was an undeniable layer of concern edging around the delicate rim that was Balthier's voice. Basch arched an eyebrow at that, now. Balthier was outwardly expressing his concern for him but why? He did think that he was fine, he felt healthy, he was robust, and there were really no ailments that were preventing him from doing anything productive. The wind biting at his skin no longer irked him, the coldness that tingled within his very heels no longer affected him. He was numb to all of that. Basch was shocked because no one had ever really helped him per se, no one had offered to ever ask about his health. **

"**I'm fine, Balthier, honestly," Basch replied and it was almost mechanical but the twinkle in his eyes suggested that he was alive and he was feeling everything that happened to him so that was good. The sound of distinct footfalls alerted Vaan and so he nodded toward the girls who were approaching them, shivering in their flimsy attires and struggling with heaps of food that were carefully stuffed in bulging knapsacks. Basch and Balthier rushed to help them, pulling Vaan along behind them. He trailed after them dispiritedly until he smelled Wild Onion carcasses and snuck a peek into the bag only to find two dead Twintanias inside. A smirk lit up his entire face so that he glowed with childlike mischievousness and innocent delight. **

"**What are you smiling about, hm?" Penelo cattily asked as she plucked a dangling purse tinkling with coins from his belted sash. Vaan pouted and tried to swipe it from her but she leaned away from him, effectively avoiding his greedy outstretched fingers. He grasped at air and realizing this, he gave in and traipsed next to Fran, his body showing signs of lethargy as his shoulders slumped. Balthier kept to the frontline, shooting until the Stone Bolts imploded into smoke that dusted the air with faint grey swirls. Vaan and Ashe moved along as a unit, their breathing ragged, their foreheads slick with sweat, and their desire to kill anything that challenged them was remarkably strong. **

**It was when the first shafts of golden sunbeams broke through stone and dirt and enamel, that Basch announced that they had made it to the legendary Stilshrine of Miriam. The sky never seemed more blue than it did on that day. **

**_Additional Author's Comments - _**So hey all! This part of the 'Red Prism' arc is finally completed and it took three long days to complete. I typed it out rather roughly, made some revisions, all after playing some FXII and levelling up my two wonder teams. So, I hope you enjoy this. Not much to say really since I'm very satisfied with the whole outcome of this. Good amounts of interaction between fiends and party members alike and not to mention some colourful battle scenes. This is for Sweet Valentine, thanks for writing such beautiful Balthier x Ashe vignettes and I hope you enjoy this.

To all my fans, thanks for reading and thanks for being so loyal.

I appreciate it.

Sincerely,

x The Blearing Phoenix


	5. Chapter V: Red PrismPartTwo

**Pentagram Equations**

**-**

**The Blearing Phoenix**

_**Disclaimer**_** - **I do not own the characters featured in this story nor do I own the plot, those belong to SQUARE-ENIX.

_**Summary**_** - **(In-Game) Friendship can be found in the unlikeliest of people during the oddest of circumstances. (Brief Balthier x Ashe and Implied Basch x Penelo)

_**Chapter Summary**_** – **The party discovers the labyrinthine structure known as the infamous Stilshrine of Miriam. Part Two of the 'Red Prism' story arc will commence.

_**Authors's Notes – **__So sorry for the extremely long delay, I had standardized tests to take today_, _projects to finish, and a bunch of muddled thoughts to untangle. But I'm back and my brain is somewhat functioning, although that's partially due to my high sugar-intake (Frosted Flakes really hits the spot) and my devotion to you guys. So here it is, the Sword of Kings quest, split up into three parts all made with extremely delicate grace and care. Sincerely, from yours truly, is also a plot twist. Dun, dun, dun. _

_Yeah, plot twists are hard to do and I know this will sound terribly cliche what with my awful summarising techniques being involved in it and all hee, hee, but .. .for extra good measure I decided to throw in two OCs who are blood relatives of Vayne Solidor and little Larsa Solidor). However, they will not be introduced until I get their family history, background information, and twisted morales on life and doing what they do all straightened out. But never fear, I'll make the wait worthwhile by writing some short and sweet vignettes for you guys. I'm doing this because I love you._

_Once again, thanks for the encouraging feedback, cookies and milk will be distributed to you all for that. __I send you my hugs and kisses: XOXO : in the form of this lovely, gory little chapter. I owe my inspiration of the detailed and rather grim imagery to Shikhee and her lovely vignette-chapter, "Blood drunk" from her fanfic that is entitled, "FFXII: Inside What's Within Behind". I recommend that you check out the fic but please avoid it if you are the slightest bit squeamish as it is quite "colourful" in its descriptions. _

_Wow, this is the longest Author's Note I've EVER done. Lol._

_Well, happy reading!!_

_TBP_

_PS This is also dedicated to Sweet Valentine who'd dedicated a chapter of her beautifully written, "Roses and Clouds" fic to me. Dedications also go out to Mariagoner, Wakamoley, LadyJamie178, Girl-who-sings-the-blues, Mandamirra10, Caillin Skylark, and of course my lovely anonymous reviewer who knows who she is. Thank you all for taking the time to scrutinize my work and to give an input for each chapter. It means so much to me, you have no idea. _

_Now (insertdramaticpausehere) let the chapter ... COMMENCE!! _

Chapter V. The Red Prism Arc/Part Two (Ashe's Turn)

**The group had spent countless hours wandering through the labyrinthine structure, straining their eyes against the swirling Mist-stained air, that burned into their corneas. Slivers of thought seeped into Penelo's mind, settling into the little pockets of her brain, making electric shocks jostle through her body. Or so she told herself, because there was the possibility that the electricity crackling around her could have been from her growing accumulation of Mist. Her long fingers grasped the frayed edge of her red kerchief. She dabbed it unto her forehead and wiped a thin layer of perspiration from it. Her blue eyes analyzed every corner, every wrapped-up secret it held, every light ball of air that was puffed out from the dying corpses around her. It took some time until she'd realized that **_**this **_**was the Stilshrine of Miriam.**

**It was an entanglement of intersecting chambers that were dimly lit by fiery blue torches, blazing night and day infinitely. Somewhere deep within its bowels, lay the quieted power that was encased within the Sword of Kings. Ashe felt it throbbing within her chest and she closed her fist over her heart, as if the action would silence it. The strings that tied her beating heart to her chest cavity felt as if they'd loosened themselves and she felt them pull at each other continuously. Blood surged through her fast, letting everything rush through her mind in an incomprehensible blur. She thought of Balthier, remembered the sound of his velvety baritone and she remembered the feel of his long fingers and how they had enveloped her tiny ones in a secret and gentle sort of warmth. **

**The silence was alien to her, a foreign thing that Ashe was incapable of adjusting to. Never had she traipsed through a silent area without the sound of her companions to keep her sane. She longed to utter a word, to let out a breathy sigh, to do anything, but her tongue kept to the roof of her mouth. She spat up salty blood and watched the saliva-blood mixture pool on the floor, in a small puddle. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her wrists kept tensing up, she felt the urge to flick them, she urged herself to press on. There was a clearing in the middle of the brumous fog that distinctly shimmered a bright lime green. Some brown blur swam within her vision. She squinted her eyes trying to differentiate between soft corners and sharp ones, jagged edges from smooth ones – it failed.**

**She squinted and blinked and tried to peer through the very smoky screen of Mist but it was all to no avail. Ashe relied on instinct alone, clutching unto a silky handcuff and bracing her weight against the smooth stone walls. Her hands grasped the hem of a silky shirt, tracing the stitching until they almost fingered the silver buckle that fastened a leather belt in place. Her thoughts were a jumbled mass, a messy tangle of things that had no true order to them, no true purpose or direction. She felt light-headed, spinning on her toes, feeling the room move with her and around her. **

**The effect of the Mist was drowning and infecting. It was simply contagious and downright draining. The other group members had undergone a significant change and that much was noticeable. The Mist-disease whatever it was, whatever name it went by, was truly palpable – symptoms and all. Up until that point the mysterious ailment that Ashe had been experiencing had no name at all. A nameless sickness was a terrible one. It was something that brought misfortune upon any party that came across it. It was some mishap really that they hadn't ever thought of it merely being a Mist fever.**

"**Bal–Bal?" She breathed out, her normally strong voice thin and raspy on the ears. Balthier turned, his sleeves fluttered in the slight breeze that was carried from the small cut out windows on his left. He turned to her, studying the contours of her body, the lines that he'd so often admired, and sighed softly to himself. He noted how weak she looked in that moment, the tenderest way she started to sway, as the light off of her blade waned. It pained him to see her like this. Ashe no longer looked so strong anymore. She collapsed unto her knees, resting her head in her lap, her attire rippling across her thin delicate bones and her pallid skin. Balthier steadied her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder, his breath mirrored her own – shallow and rasped.**

"**Ashe, you are not well, something ails you," He searched for an answer in her ocean toned eyes, grasping her shoulders firmly with his hand. it was the first time that he had called her by her self-titled nickname, she realized with a growing joy inside her. Behind him Penelo stifled a small cough and her eyes started tearing as she picked at a thorn that had become embedded in her palm. Blood beaded around her mottled tear of a cut. She pressed her lips to the heel of her palm and traced the harsh lines with them. Basch murmured to himself and to the surprise of Vaan, he laid Penelo against the wall. He started carefully, unraveling her speckled bruises with his stringed Curaga spells and Hi-Potion bottles. The light from this was beautiful to Vaan, and it put him in a light trance, making his thoughts dance against one another quickly and lightly. **

"**The Mist here ... it burns and seethes," Fran said, uncertainty lining the edge of her thinned voice, she ran her clawed fingers through her silky hair, glancing through the dense Mist. Vaan stood beside her, yet she pushed him aside, as if he were encroaching upon her personal space. The youth didn't object to this. He merely held his head in his hands, and moaned in pain. The sight of this was not gratifying in the least. This kind of worried Ashe, to see the young boy in such a vulnerable position, heaving out air and swallowing it back up as if it were his only lifeline. Air and light stirred around him in some faint sprinkling of yellow dust and golden sun rays yet he never noticed this. His hair was dull. The fringe was long and it came to rest over his honey-hued eyes, and his lips were bleeding, chapped and numbed. Fran came over to him and she placed her hand over him and chanted out spells into him – into his cuts and bruises and sickness. **

**The area was noiseless, soundless, and dead to Ashe. Light and incantations filled the room, bouncing off the walls to reverberate around the seemingly abandoned place. Yet still, a presence loomed near them, imposing and vengeful all at once, Ashe could feel it tugging within her chest. **

The Red Prism Arc/Part Two (Ashe's Turn_ continued_)

**Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca was sick. She was wheezing and spitting and biting her tongue. Ashe was desperately trying to vie off the sickness and she was failing. She clutched the woolen sunflower-yellow blanket that reminded her of Vaan's hair before it had become three shades lighter. Her lips were smarting, she'd chewed on it until the surface of the skin broke. She felt blood spots trickle down her chin, she wiped it wearily and shifted underneath her sheets. Voices hummed above her, there was the distant sound of a wooden spoon scraping against the bottom of a wooden bowl. Basch was discussing something with Balthier but the sounds sort of flew away from Ashe's ears again. **

**She still couldn't get out of her stupor. She couldn't climb out of this sweaty, blood-speckled sheet. She wanted to fling the stupid covers off of herself in frustration and she wanted to **_**fight. **_**Because that was all, she knew how to do. She knew how to fight, how to lunge herself against the enemy, how to find their weakness, and how to plunge her weapon into that spot. Ashe rasped and it was difficult for her to respire. She raised herself, arched her back, and sniffed out blood. Then there was the terrible feeling in her chest, like something was squirming and living within it, scraping against muscle and bone, just anxious to get out. **

"**Balthier! Balthier! Balthier!" She screeched hoarsely, not caring that her throat was sore and burning and itching, not caring that there was only sweat and dirt on her palms, not caring at all. She just wanted Balthier, she couldn't fathom why she'd ever need him now, but she just knew that she wanted him by her bedside. She called and called until her voice was almost dying away, until it broke into a tiny little whisper. Her knight, her comrade, her confidante came to her with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Some sweat beaded his forehead and wiped this away hastily with his fingers, blood smeared his eyelid where a fresh cut throbbed and bled. **

**He held her tiny fingers in his, examining them, turning them from side to side. He fanned her with a small red kerchief he'd borrowed from Fran, or so he'd replied when she'd inquired about it. He brushed his thumb across her brow, staring deep into her brown eyes and then he asked her about how she was feeling. Ashe paused here, thoughtfully, just mulling over everything she'd experienced since she'd entered this dreadful place. She chose her words cautiously then answered him dutifully, lacing her small fingers together, and glancing at the washed out sheets. **

"**...I feel awful, I'm in such pain that it's almost terrible – to ever think that I'm going through it. How are the others feeling with it? Is Vaan all right?" Ashe queried, she wrestled with the sheets, tangling it around her legs until she finally rested her head against the feathery pillows again. Basch was placid on the surface, but he was brimming with worriment and fatigue, Ashe could tell. If she peeled back the layers of his temperament than she could decipher the mixed messages it sent out, she could find out how he was feeling from doing that. It seemed to work now, and she was so complacent, just knowing that. **

"**Balthier is not too well. I'm afraid he's very ill. The fever, Fran says has progressed through his system. Vaan and Penelo are faring much better, they're fully alert now as are you." Basch focused on her once more, averting his eyes to regard her countenance which seemed all too serious. He traced her half-closed lids, noticed how the light in her eyes had faded. He wiped a speck of blood from her upper lip and offered a small rueful smile to her. Her hands balled into fists and she felt the corners of her eyes burn with tears. Ashe told herself not to cry, not to display her inner weakness. No, she mustn't startle her companions with it. She had to show forwardness, she had to be determined, she had to admirably blunt, and forceful. She had display all of these things because they were ingrained in her, they were instilled in her, and furthermore they were her patterns – they made up her persona. **

**Later on in the day, Ashe had woken up again, feeling nauseated, dehydrated and simply too tired and blood-filled to talk. Her body was swaying, her strength was quickly diminishing, she could barely lift a finger now and that hurt. Her mind was receding into itself, thoughts spilling out all messily into one another. It was complete chaos – this fever and whatever it was doing to her. She spit up blood for the umpteenth time and shivered within her sheets, her bones jostling against one another as her lips trembled. Her knees quivered and buckled and she almost felt as if she were falling straight through the sheets, sinking through the feathers and the cotton and into the stone flooring. **

**Red Prism Arc/Part Two (Penelo's Turn) **

_**Bread was baking in the mortar oven, coals were being reheated, and papers were being burned in the homemade incinerators. Penelo smelled this: Burning paper, freshly baked cinnamon bread, and rain, as she walked through the arched doorway. She was around five years of age, with a petite frame and ruddy cheeks that were flushed with a light shade of pink**__** Her father**__** was a soldier in the Dalmascan army, a fledgling compared to the husky authoritative men that she'd seen marching in straight lines **__**from her little bedroom window. **_

_**Her mother was a merchant who often sold her wares at the famed Muthruu Bazaar and she'd come back with bagfuls of tinkling Gil, counting them out, and then setting them down in a locked cabinet before she'd start cooking dinner. She was a lithely-bodied woman with wispy sun-tipped hair and laughing blue eyes the color of the sea. She hummed offbeat tunes and whistled to the birds, mimicking their calls, and she made paper cranes with Penelo. Then she bandaged Carlsa and Marlsa's cuts. Here she was now, sitting in the wicker chair, and threading a crimson sweater with deft little fingers. She rose out of her seat and placed the spool of crimson thread and the small bag of needles down on the wooden end table. Then she greeted Penelo with a singsong, "Hello honey" and a sweet butterfly kiss on her cheek. **_

_**And where were Marlsa and Carlsa now, Penelo wondered aloud as she fumbled with the soft threads, almost pulling them out as she did so. They were outside, learning how to fight, her mother responded before she resumed her task of sewing sweaters for her beloved children. Carlsa was aged seven and Marlsa was aged nine. They were tall, about one size taller than Penelo, and they had beautiful green and orange-flecked eyes. Marlsa was the matured one. He scolded them, talked with them, and taught them how to braid reeds together to make a reed basket. He taught them how to fish and he was always the frisky one. He was always bouncing off somewhere, yelling, creaming, and guffawing mirthfully until he collapsed on the ground, full of exhaustion. **_

_**Then there was Carlsa, the middle one, who was so benevolent, so full of goodness that he garnered attention everywhere he went. He was the doe-eyed one. He always smelled of fresh cut grass and quite Spring rains. Penelo adored him with all of her little might. So Carlsa came in with a head full of sunflowers sticking out of his russet curls that softly framed his small face. His gaze was intense and directed at everything in the room at once, flitting from one thing to the other. He hugged his mother and kissed Penelo and then took her hand and whispered to her about flying metal birds, sky pirates, and little amazing stories that his father had relayed to him.**_

_**Penelo was awestruck, drinking in everything with her mouth agape and her starry-eyed gaze. Carlsa smiled down at her and hugged her until he could barely hug her anymore. He never let her go, because he loved her that much. **_

"_**Can we go outside, ma?" he asked with that irresistibly charming grin on his face. Their mother huffed and looked down at them lovingly until she wiped a damp strand of hair from her face and nodded solemnly to them.**_

"_**Just watch your brother and your sister and come back in before dinner, you hear?"**_

"_**Yes ma," with that little response, Carlsa was off, dragging Penelo gently, tugging at her until she compliantly followed. She was awed by all of the little skittering insects that hummed and buzzed all around her. Lightning bugs, seemed to light the sky with their dancing luminous tails. They flew all around her, in her hair, and they circled around her arms. Carlsa noticed this and laughed and laughed. Marlsa joined in while their father came up from behind them and amazed them with his new talent. He clasped the small little skittering things and then revealed them, alighted on his palms, with a gentle glow emanating from their bodies. **_

"_**Lightning bugs, Penny. They dance and lure little females in, see." His voice was a soft baritone – he could fashion a sweet legato when he sang, but it was a dreamy whispered baritone now. Penelo's eyelids fluttered and she squeaked gleefully, until she saw her mom through her peripheral vision. Carlsa and Marlsa skipped around her billowing skirt and smiled at her, wringing her little spidery hands and singing an old Dalmascan tune with her. **_

**Penelo woke up, sweat beading along her hairline, creating tiny translucent pearls along her brows, she wiped this with a kerchief and absentmindedly chewed on her lip. Her fever had been eviscerated through the constant swallowing of sweet honey-like drinks and tangent broths which had been provided by Fran in all of her motherliness. She'd cried herself to sleep, according to Vaan who she'd found sheathing and unsheathing his Iceblade in anticipation. He laced and unlaced his fingers, placed his blade by his hip and he licked his chapped lips. The pink hue in Penelo's cheeks had returned and Vaan noted this aloud when he turned and saw that she was in fair health.**

"**I hate Mist fever, I wonder how Ashe is doing," Penelo sighed breathlessly as if she'd sprinted through a marathon and she certainly felt that way, breathing raggedly and heavily.**

"**I heard that she's better now actually. What a relief I was starting to think that she wouldn't pull through." Vaan folded up his lime-green blanket and peered around the corner as a high-pitched shriek sounded from their far left, something shook through them, rattling bones, and making teeth chatter inaudibly. **

**The Shrine had come alive during the group's long slumber. **

_**Additional Author's Comments – **_What's up everyone,

First of all, I'd like to apologize for my extremely long absence period. As you may or may not know (depending on if you checked my profile), I had put this on hiatus since a lot of schoolwork came up that had to be completed. I had to find a balance for the two: this piece of fanfiction and my own academic performance, so once I found it I set to work again. But you know, when I started it wasn't my day so I did two and-a-half pages (hardly a lot compared to what I can do on a good day ) and left it off for a few days and completed it. It's short to me, only six-and-a-half pages bordering on seven, but I'm partially content with it so I'll just leave it as it is.

Anyway, I love you all, hope you enjoy the oncoming plot twists and the bland (to me) descriptions and the terribly cliched dialogue (again to me it seems that way). I know I'm too hard on myself, right?

Chapter Six will be on it's way soon ... after I can finish my darn US History Pocahontas Vs. Sacajawea project. Peace, love, and unity, everyone, keep it real and see you soon.

Advanced criticism and commentary are always appreciated and readily welcomed.

Respectfully,

x The Blearing Phoenix


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